


Another Part of Surviving

by notsoappropro



Series: Necessity [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Dissociation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, Prostitution, survival sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsoappropro/pseuds/notsoappropro
Summary: He doesn’t anticipate it, the first time. He’s head to toe in filth, having slept under trees and in city alleyways for an uncountable number of days on Nott and his neverending escape. The grime under Caleb's fingernails is aggressively visible in a clean store he clearly cannot afford to be in as he counts his silver. He only has four, it’s all they have between the two of them, and it’s many coins short for the medicine they need.





	Another Part of Surviving

**Author's Note:**

> For a Prompt on CriticalKink: https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/3194.html?thread=446842#cmt446842  
> Caleb/Any Survival Sex: Caleb has lived rough for a while now, he's had to do some unsavory things to keep himself and Nott safe and with a roof over their head.
> 
> This is an Unbeta'd work!

He doesn’t anticipate it, the first time. He’s head to toe in filth, having slept under trees and in city alleyways for an uncountable number of days on Nott and his neverending escape. The grime under Caleb's fingernails is aggressively visible in a clean store he clearly cannot afford to be in as he counts his silver. He only has four, it’s all they have between the two of them, and it’s many coins short for the medicine they need.

“That’s all I have. Please, my daughter-“ he makes eye contact as the lie rolls of his tongue, but the desperation in his tone need not be fake. His clever little friend could certainly meet this merchant’s price after a theft or two if she weren’t bundled away past the last city line, dying slowly from poison in her system that Caleb had no spells to heal. Lying was the only thing Caleb had. It had to work. “-she won’t make the night.”

The human man looked him up and down lazily from the opposite side of the counter, rolling the vial Caleb so desperately needed between his fingers. Caleb decides in that moment he’s brave enough to steal if it could save Notts life. With a head start he might escape the city guard. Just the thought of chains made him shiver - if he got caught there would be no Nott to save him this time. There might be no Nott ever again.

“There are other ways you can pay.”

Thé interjection is gruff, deep, and draws Caleb quickly out of his thoughts. He’s shocked by the generosity of the statement - that he looks useful for anything in his filthy, starved state to the merchant.

“Anything,” Caleb promises. If it’s something that lasts past this night he can get the medicine and run. It would be theft, of course, one charge more is nothing if it meant Notts life.

“Good.” The unclipping of belts is unreasonably loud in the otherwise quiet, empty store and Caleb realizes he has drastically misunderstood this arrangement.

There’s nothing Caleb can find to say, finding himself frozen, silvers in hand. He is not naive enough to miss what’s expected when the man exposes his genitals. He is not unfamiliar with intercourse, but back in those better days there was a warm feeling in his stomach instead of cold dread. To escape from the fear, Caleb’s mind sinks into thoughts of Nott. He’d left her shivering but bundled in his own coat and she had been so scared when he said he’d leave. The attack that left her injured was on the heels of a lovely experience with a nearsighted florist who gave the masked ‘little halfling girl’ a fresh rose that Nott could hardly tear her nose from.

Steeped in the memory, Caleb loses track of his body and becomes aware halfway to his knees, the man guiding him forward with a grip on his tunic. Fear crystallizes into something that only lets him experience the exchange in flashes: his hands slapped away from a half hard, blessedly clean penis. A moment of shock as something hits the back of his throat. Fingers wrapped in his dirty, tangled hair, holding him still as he choked - too close to a familiar torture for Caleb to tolerate and his mind recedes entirely.

It feels like waking from a dream when he finds himself halfway to the city’s edge, vial in hand, silvers gone, finally feeling the weight of his actions. The corner of a building is there to support him against the press of his horror.

After the shaking had worked its way out his limbs, he manages the rest of his way to Nott. Even in the dim light of sunset Caleb could see she had become paler. Somewhere between her feverish ramblings he manages to get her to drink the potion. After that it’s a long, sleepless night with the goblin held close and the memories of the day feeling far away.

It’s a few hazy days before Notts smile comes back, something about it less careful than before. Caleb revels in it. He finds a good lie to explain the potion and if he doesn’t quite manage to stick to it Nott at least pretends not to notice. Still, there is wisdom in his friend’s eyes and a couple occasions where he surfaces from deep in his own thoughts to find her present and close and comforting.

When Caleb first resolutely decides he’d do it all again if it meant protecting Nott, his mind hadn’t come to terms with the idea that he someday might have to.

——

The fourth time it happens is urgent, and Caleb offers himself.

“Wait,” he interjects, stopping the guards progress with a jerk of his chains. They turn, hands readied against their weapons. Nott, for all the teeth she beared, had wrapped as much of herself as the chains would allow around Caleb - fearfully and protectively in equal measure. “We were harming no one. Let us go. I can make it worth your while.”

“He can!” Nott adds nervously. “He’s got magic and spells and is really smart and-.”

“He’s out of spells. There’s nothing you can offer,” the guard to Nott side announces plainly. Nott looks frantically between her, the other guard, and Caleb. What now? written with trust across her face.

“Perhaps something,” he lets his voice deepen, the implications of his offer heavy in his words. Caleb can't quite bring himself to directly proposition them in front of Nott. He’s worse off this time than before, bruised and beaten underneath the dirt. But maybe his willingness would be enough of a draw.

The guards don’t miss his meaning, and one takes the opportunity to grab Caleb by his chin, her gauntleted hand turning him this way and that. The other guard watches him with heat in his eyes. Caleb had never managed two at once, but he could if it meant keeping Nott and himself out of prison.

The second guard has the decency to separate his and Notts chains, linking her to a hook in the hall as they took him to a second room.

It’s not gentle, not from the moment they have him on the ground. It is, however, the first time he finds himself touched back - that anyone had had a modicum of interest in his arousal. Caleb would find it curious if he wasn’t trying to escape to that place in the back of his head - where he could stay quiet and function in whatever ways they wished him to. He finds himself responding against his alternative efforts, making noises he hopes to any higher power won’t reach the large green ears in the hall.

He climaxes despite himself, and the guards follow not long after. Finally, the experience blurs. He catches moments of the guards dashing away their evidence from his dazed place on the floor. Tossing a sheet over him when he misses their order to get dressed. A moment where his chains are undone and he’s being awkwardly pulled into his tunic.

It’s when he notices how small the hands managing his clothes are that he shoots to attention. Nott is at his side, fingers just finished lacing up Caleb’s belt. She stares at him wide-eyed, caught in the act. Caleb opened his mouth to speak and feels silenced. Active candles lit up the tears in her eyes.

“I thought they were killing you,”Caleb notices the red bandages and raw skin where manacles once sat. Memories of that cursed prison - where they became familiar with each other’s screams - surfaced at the prompt. His self disgust builds at the idea of his body enjoying it for even a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Nott.”

“You saved our lives-,” she dismisses his apology with a shake of her head. The tears fall again. “And I couldn’t help you and you’re very hurt and I don’t know what to do.”

Just having his clothing on helped Caleb feel very together. With adrenaline fading, aches with unspeakable sources began to radiate through his body.

“Help me out of here-“ he winced at the roughness of his voice. “And we can both try and forget about this, yeah?”  
She hooks herself around him, sniffling, and they sneak their way out of the barracks. He wakes up at their camp a full day later. Nott naps across from him on a horde of new baubles, flask in hand. 

It’s back to back nightmares for some time, but that just becomes part of their routine.

—-  
The eighth time it happens is in a village with a red painted building. He finds it again under cover of night while Nott rests in their room. He’s greeted by a woman in heavy makeup at the door, clothing stylish and exposed.

“Looking for company?” She asks with a cadence and depth that Caleb has become familiar with.

“Looking for work, actually.” Caleb feels her eye him warily up and down. He’s a little bit dirty, but he tried to scrub his face and hair with a dry towel before coming. The tickle of a disease-sensing spell crawls up his back and he takes it as a very good sign when she smiles.

“Let’s get you set up.”

In the red building it happens a ninth, tenth, and a dozen more times to the point that Caleb loses count. He gets worshiped. He gets used. He takes long naps in the morning, he lets Nott show him her stolen things at dinner, and returns for several nights.

It’s enough for a book and two wagon tickets, and Caleb develops this new skill by inches.


End file.
